


Ashes, Dust, and All That

by FalseTestimony



Category: Fables (Willingham) - All Media Types, Fables: The Wolf Among Us (Video Game), Hellblazer & Related Fandoms
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, constantine is a wierd mix of some of the comics and the tv show i give him what powers i want, takes place before twau
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 11:22:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20599940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalseTestimony/pseuds/FalseTestimony
Summary: As it turns out, some mundies have magic, and said magic just caused a death in Fabletown. So, of course Sheriff Bigby Wolf is in charge of it.Luckily for him, or perhaps unluckily, John Constantine happened to wander in through his front door.





	Ashes, Dust, and All That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which John's plans to go apartment shopping go a little sideways, and Bigby is unfortunately faced with something that's a little worse than arson.

John Constantine stopped as he almost passed the building for what must have been the 5th time today, his brain practically begging him to ignore it and look for somewhere else to hole up for a couple months before getting kicked out again for missing rent.

Well, _ something _ was urging him to ignore the _ very _innocuous building, thank you very much. Nothing to see here! Just apartments! Move along!

It was a very strong ward, John had to admit. It almost worked on him. Almost. _ Somebody _ knew what they were doing when they set it up.

John raised an eyebrow at the apartment complex, “The Woodlands: Luxury Apartments” as it was apparently called, judging by the metal sign next to the front gate.

“Now, why would someone want me to ignore you badly?” he muttered, squinting at the sign, chewing on his almost-dead cigarette. He glanced at the glass doors at the end of a pleasant little path. It looked nice. Not like something he could afford. He probably should leave. The ward spell agreed with that thought.

He pushed the gate open and marched his way down the path.

Pushing open the doors, he found himself inside a pleasant, if not a tad dingy, lobby. What he could only presume to be the security guard lay snoring in his chair, asleep. Constantine leaned over him, gently tapping him with a finger.

“Hey, mate. Wake up.”

The man only offered a snore in response. Constantine decided to give up the venture and turned back to the otherwise empty lobby. 

On the opposite wall, conveniently next to the elevator, was the listing of the apartment residents.

“Probably have the business office on here somewhere.” he grumbled, making his way over the plaque. He snorted as he read the names. “Mr. and Ms. Beast? S. White? B. Rose? What, is there a B. Wolf on here too?” His eyes wandered down a little. “Oh, there he is. And there’s the offices. Hm.” He pressed up button on the elevator, glancing around as he waited for the lift to arrive. “Nice bit of expansion magic done to this place. Among other things.”

Luckily for him, the business offices were just down the hall. There were a couple of possible contenders for what would be the right door for him to walk in, but after walking past a door that practically slammed him with magical energy, he decided that that one should probably be it. 

The office beyond it was much larger than it had any right to be, especially with its high vaulted ceilings, numerous bookshelves, and --John squinted-- yep, a flying ship, sails and all. Unfortunately for him, there wasn’t anyone in sight. An empty desk with the nameplate “S. White” looked official. The one labeled “I. Crane” looked even more so.

He leaned against that one, grinding his dead cigarette against the ground and lighting another one.

“Bigby, I’ve asked for you not to smoke in here.” A rather stressed looking woman stormed into the room, glaring at the papers in her hands like they’d done her some personal offense. “What do you want? This better be…” She looked up, trailing off as she stared at Constantine, blue eyes on blue. “You’re not Bigby.” 

“Don’t think I am, love.” he replied, shrugging. “Got any apartments to spare? Or do I need a funny name for that?”

She just blinked and shook her head in confusion. “I’m sorry, how did you get in here?”

“I walked in. Can I get an apartment or no? I really need to move and this place caught my eye.” He grinned. He had the feeling it didn’t look particularly trustworthy. 

The woman swallowed nervously before going, “Give me a moment, I need to go get someone, then we can talk about this. Wait here.”

Constantine shrugged again. “Alright, love. I’ve got all night.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door to Bigby’s office slammed open, revealing a very flabbergasted and confused Snow White. Bigby looked up in alarm at the loud noise and smell of foriegn cigarette smoke faintly drifting off her. 

“Bigby. There’s… this guy down in the Business Office. Do you know any Fables that look and smoke like a blonde, British you?” Bigby just stared at her before slowly shaking his head. 

“Nope.”

“Shit, that’s what I thought. I… I think he’s a mundy, but he sure as hell isn’t acting like one. He’s asking to rent an apartment.”

“What?!” Bigby sprung up from his chair. “Did the wards go down?”

“No, they’re still in place.”

“Then how the hell did he get in?”

“I was hoping you could find that out.” Bigby sighed, shaking his head.

“Alright, Snow. I’ll see what I can do.”

The man was waiting right where Snow had left him, leaning against the Deputy Mayor’s desk, smoking, with the exception of a few cigarette butts lying at his feet having been added. 

“You weren’t joking when you said he smokes like me.” Bigby mumbled to Snow. “If he’s a mundy, it’s a miracle that he doesn’t have lung cancer.”

The man looked up at their arrival, crossing his arms as they made his way over to him. He squinted at Bigby.

“You don’t look like the landlord type.” he said.

“I’m not. Who are you?”

“John Constantine.” he sighed, shoving his hands into his ratty trenchcoat’s pockets. “I hope I didn’t just ruin my chances at getting an apartment.”

Bigby and Snow just glanced at each other, both mildly confused, before Bigby turned back to Constantine, steeling his frown. “Why here? There’s plenty of other apartments for rent out in New York.”

“Well, I don’t think I’ve seen apartments with both a rather strong ward and a hefty amount of expansion magic, so you can say that you piqued my interest.” Bigby glowered in a mix of confusion, frustration, and just a touch of fear. The man smelled of Silk Cut cigarettes and brimstone.

“Who the _ hell _are you?!”

Constantine put his hands up in a show of peace. “I told you, mate, I’m John Constantine! Demonologist, exorcist and petty dabbler in the Dark Arts. Figured you’d at least heard of me, maybe. But I guess you haven’t. Which, admittedly, is kind of a relief.” 

Bigby paced across the room like a caged wolf as the man answered his question. He stopped, pausing to glare at Constantine.

"Better question might be _ what _ are you?" 

Constantine shrugged. "Lots of things, mate. Sorcerer, magician, take your pick. I do magic, occult, among others."

"So, you're human?"

"Mostly. Like 99.9%."

"What the hell is _ that _supposed to mean?"

"It's complicated, but for all intents and purposes, we'll say, yes, I'm human." 

Bigby groaned, rubbing his temples. "You're really not fucking supposed to be here. How the hell did you get past the wards?"

Constantine dropped his finished cigarette, grinding it beneath his shoe before pulling out another one and lighting it before answering. "I'll admit, your wards almost got me, but I do tend to have a stronger resistance to them in comparison to most people. Once I noticed there was a ward up in the first place, it was just a matter of walking in." He breathed out, smoke drifting upwards. "You know, this is a lot of bother for an apar--" 

The phone on Snow's desk rang, abruptly cutting him off. He glanced down at it, before glancing between Snow and Bigby, eyebrow raised.

"Either of you going to get that?" 

Snow eventually stepped forward, picking up the receiver. "Hello? This is Snow White." A pause. "_ What?! _ Yes, I'll send Sheriff Wolf over right away." She looked over at Bigby, eyes wide, brow furrowed. Constantine also looked over at Bigby, biting his lip like he was trying _ very _hard not to laugh. "Bigby, there's been… trouble at the baker's. Some sort of arson."

"I'll go take a look." He fixed his glare on Constantine, snarling slightly. "Don't move. I'll deal with you later." He turned and stomped out the door, leaving Snow behind with Constantine.

"Don't tell me." Constantine said slyly, lighting yet another cigarette. "The baker's between the butcher and candlestick-maker?"

Snow threw him a cold glance before replying "Yes, actually." 

"Hm." He tapped some ash onto the ground. "So, is the whole fairy tale thing some sort of shtick for you guys? Or are you actually the tales themselves?" 

Snow whipped around, wide eyed. "I beg your pardon?!"

Constantine just languidly stuck the cigarette back in his mouth. "Well, you aren't human, that's for sure. Not demons or vampires or any other kind of long lived supernatural creature that I can think of either, unless you're doing a very good job of pulling the wool over my eyes. Which I doubt. So…" He gestured in Snow's direction. "along with your names, my guess is that you're some sort of manifestations of characters from classic fables. Or, alternately, the human version of those fables is an adaptation of your stories. Reason why I'm causing such a fuss is because you don't want to be known to the rest of humanity, which I am one of. Let me know if I'm wrong." 

Snow just blinked before slowly shaking her head. "No… you're pretty much spot on."

“Ta-dah.” Constantine halfheartedly waved his hands before crossing his arms. “Don’t worry, love, I won’t tell. We’ve got the same sort of deal in the magical community. To be honest, it’s a miracle we haven’t run into each other yet.” He snorted, scratching his chin. “Kind of funny, really. I’m probably the first sorcerer you’ve met who’s not from one of your tales.”

Snow crossed her arms, glaring at him suspiciously. “I’m not entirely convinced about that. Think you could provide some proof?”

Constantine smirked. “You want me to do a magic trick? Pick a card, any card?”

Snow didn’t look particularly amused at that. Constantine shrugged.

“Alright, sure, love. I’ll give you a little sho--” He was promptly interrupted again by insistent banging on the door to the office.

“Excuse me a moment. Don’t go anywhere.” Snow went to answer the door, opened it, and closed it behind her. Several moments passed. Those turned into several minutes.

“I don’t think she’s coming back for a bit. Lucky me. I did want to take a look around.” Constantine said to himself, glancing around the room. 

A mirror leaning up against the bookshelf caught his eye, it’s surface shining with a green tinge.

“I wonder…” he sauntered over to it, leaning over the glass. “You wouldn’t happen to be the Magic Mirror, would you?”

A swirl of green smoke, and an equally green face appeared. “That I would be.”

“Don’t suppose I have to do the whole rhyming thing, do I?”

“You do.”

Constantine shrugged. “Alright. Mirror, mirror, if you’re not a faker, show me what’s going on at the bloody baker.”

Another swirl of smoke, and an image. Constantine stared. And stared. And stared.

“_ Shit. _”

He turned on his heel, and bolted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The smell of burnt toast and smoke was overwhelming as Bigby stepped into the scorched shop, causing him to scrunch up his face in displeasure. Quickly, he lit a cigarette to dull the smell, glancing around. The person who made the call was some unrelated fable, and he'd let them go on their way once he'd determined that they were just passing by, so that put his number of suspects to zero, unfortunately. 

He sniffed the air cautiously, trying to find anything unusual beneath the stench smoke. The fire was long gone at this point. It had burned hot, fast, and angry, if the melted display case was indicative of anything. 

“Looks like it originated in the back of the shop.” he murmured, pushing past the charred remains of the counter, and with a bit of effort, shoving the half-melted door away.

The smell of burnt meat assaulted his sinuses, and the scene before him stopped him in his tracks, eyes wide. At the foot of the baker’s oven lay a charred body, most definitely human in form, but burnt so far beyond recognition that identifying who it might be would be impossible. Encircling it were symbols of some kind, but not anything he recognized. It looked like something vaguely related to the mundy occult, but he couldn’t say for sure. The oven itself had been melted into a metallic pile. “_TIME TO TAKE BACK WHAT IS OURS_” had been clawed into it with something long, sharp. A warning or a simple statement of fact? Bigby couldn’t tell.

“Bollocks!” Bigby turned around in alarm as the new, but somewhat familiar scent of Cut Silk cigarettes, sulfur, and anger caught his attention. He narrowed his eyes at the rumpled newcomer.

“Mr. Constantine?” The man lifted his hand in a greeting he was only half-paying attention to, his eyes still fixed on the scene before the two of them.

“Cheers, mate. Drop the mister, if you’d like, I get the feeling we’re going to be working real close now.” Bigby crossed his arms.

“Now hold on. This is Fabletown business; I can't let a mundy get involved. You need to leave.” Constantine squatted by the body as Bigby talked, glancing up at him in a somewhat amused manner.

“Oh, I’m no mundy, mate. And this isn’t the work of one of your little Fables. Not exclusively, anyways. Trust me, this is something you’ll want someone with experience in magic in to help you with. Luckily for you, I’m ready and available.” he looked back at the body, staring intensely at it’s head, eyes occasionally flickering towards the ground around it.

“What the fuck are you talking about? And step away from the body before I make you.” Constantine held up his hands, stepping away from the corpse as he casually smoked his cigarette. He frowned at Bigby’s aggressive glare.

“Told you, mate, I’m a sorcerer. I know all about magic. Of the ‘mundy’ kind, you might say. And what’s happened here is definitely that. Tell me, Sheriff--” the look he gave Bigby made him want to raise his hackles-- “What do you think killed our crispy victim?”

Bigby settled for crossing his arms and glowering. “I’d say he burned to death, but I’d rather have Dr. Swineheart perform an autopsy before I make any conclusions.”

Constantine nodded with a look of pleasant surprise. “Not bad, not bad. Smarter than I gave you credit for.” Bigby growled, but Constantine ignored it. “Well, I can tell you that he bled to death from a cut from the neck.” He knelt down to the symbols etched into the hardwood and tapped them. “You see these? These are a type of summoning sigil for a very powerful, very nasty fire spirit. And these blighters have a nasty taste for human flesh. If you want to get one and get it under your control, you have to use a whole lot of blood. The victim’s body is usually thrown in as a bonus treat.” He sighed, glancing out towards the street. “The thing’s long gone now, though. Who knows where it will be next.”

“Probably wherever the person who wrote that message wants them. Considering they attacked a Fable establishment, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were a Fable themselves.” Bigby began to pace as Constantine stood up and leaned against the wall again. “But why would a Fable use human magic?” He whipped around, glaring at Constantine. “Which I still have yet to see evidence of, by the way.”

Constantine just coolly stared back at him, then shrugged. “Alright. Fine. Let’s just get this over with.” He tugged out his cigarette, and, with Bigby watching on in mild horror, put it out on his hand with nothing but a slight flinch of pain and a hiss. He slammed his hands together, cigarette stuck between them, mumbled a few words of _ something _, and slowly pulled them apart, smoke gathering unnaturally thick between his hands. There was a snarl, but not from himself, Bigby noticed in alarm. He jumped backwards as a wolf leapt from the smoke, it’s eyes ablaze as it snapped at him, evaporating as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Bigby against the opposite wall as Constantine wiped his sooty hands on his pants. “That was a bit more showy than I would prefer, but I’m assuming it did the trick?” 

Bigby nodded, still a tad surprised by the unexpected show. “Fine, I’m convinced. Mundies can do magic.” He swore under his breath. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

Constantine shrugged halfheartedly. “Not all of them, mate. And to be quite frank, this sort of spirit running around New York would be equally as much as a disaster for the magical community as it would be for you Fables.” His eyebrows furrowed, his eyes growing dark. “I’m talking the whole city burning to the ground, Sheriff. Every last one of its citizens burned to a crisp like our pal over here.”

Bigby risked a glance at the burnt body, grimacing at the thought. “You’re not giving me much of a choice here, Constantine.”

“The world isn’t giving you much of a choice.” Constantine held out his hand. “So what do you say to a temporary partnership? Sounds like a deal?”

Bigby paused, before reluctantly taking it and shaking it. “Fine. For now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i accidentally wrote 7 pages of this and i'll probably accidentally write more, i can't NOT put it somewhere (also no one proofread it so there might be mistakes but whatever)


End file.
